Brotherhood: A Newsies Fanfiction
by LeesaCrakon
Summary: The story behind the friendship of Jack Kelly, Crutchie Morris, Racetrack Higgins, and Specs. (Mostly Jack and Crutchie-centric)
1. Tossed Out

Crutchie Morris knew he was as good as dead. When your folks kick you out of the house at age four because they don't want to take care of a 'useless cripple', there isn't really much you can do. You become an orphan, you have to fend for yourself on the streets, and you've got to do whatever it takes not to get caught. And because of this, Crutchie Morris knew he was as good as dead.

For starters, he wouldn't steal anything, even if his life depended on it. Having a gimp leg made real hard to run off, anyways. Crutchie had too much pride to beg for anything, whether it was food, clothes, or money. He wouldn't let people feel sorry for him if he could help it. So, he lived off of the garbage, rats he managed to kill, and anything else he could find. Every once in a while a sympathetic lady or kid would give him a coin or two when they saw him in the streets, but those times were rare.

Crutchie didn't mind the life he had now. His folks had been horrible, always treating him like he was less than a person just because of his bad leg. The life on the streets was tough, and sometimes he'd run into a gang of nasties and they'd beat him, stealing whatever thing he had of value, and Crutchie had to learn how to defend himself real quick. By the time he was nine, everybody knew to steer clear of the not-so-weak crip. But, Crutchie did hate one thing. He was lonely. Not that he could help it, really. You can't trust anybody on the streets.

The only people Crutchie ever tried to talk to were the Manhattan newsies, a group of boys his age, younger, and up to eighteen that sold newspapers. He never became friends with any, just helped them out to sell their last few papes every once in a while. They all called him their pal, but Crutchie didn't know any of their names. Was that bad? Crutchie didn't think so. He didn't trust anybody; he didn't _need_ anybody. But he still felt lonely, and life was still tough.

But one day, all of that changed. One of the newsies (Specs was his name, but Crutchie didn't know that) brought Crutchie to meet Jack Kelly. He was their leader of sorts, Specs said, and he'd get Crutchie a job for The World selling newspapers if it was the last thing he did. Crutchie was hesitant at first, but after a couple of the younger boys begged and pleaded with him to go meet Jack, saying how nice he was and how much Crutchie would like him, and he was reminded of how lonely he was, he agreed.

"What's we got here, Specs? A crip?" Those were the first words Jack Kelly said when he met Crutchie Morris. Crutchie bit his lip and stood as tall as he could, puffing out his chest and mustering up a smirk. "That's right. Name's Crutchie. Crutchie Morris." He stuck out his hand for Jack to shake, watching as he looked him over with dark, hard eyes. Crutchie actually found himself starting to shake a bit when Jack sauntered over to him, getting only inches away from him. He let his hand fall to his side and pushed his crutch farther up under his arm to steady himself, narrowing his eyes and keeping them firmly on Jack.

"Cripples ain't got a chance sellin' papes. Not real ones, anyways. Beat it, kid, and go find work somewhere else," Jack said. Crutchie stiffened, and he curled his hands into fists in an attempt to surpress his anger. Jack noticed and he raised a questioning eyebrow, but said nothing about it. "Well, don't just stand 'ere. I said beat it!" Jack snapped again, and Crutchie actually shrank back a little. A few of the other newsies looked uncomfortable, and some were even looking at Jack in shock. Was this not how their leader usually acted? Crutchie felt his anger rising to the surface again and he drew himself up, glaring at Jack defiantly.

"I ain't goin' nowhere, no sir. Just 'cause I'm a cripple doesn't mean I can't do anythin'," Crutchie said coldly. With his hand that wasn't holding his crutch, Crutchie pressed his index finger into the middle of Jack's chest. "You think you're all that, with your workin' legs and your high standin' with the newsies. But d'you know what I think of ya, Jack Kelly? I think you're a pansy. You's afraid to let a crip sell papes. But I'll do it, just you see. I didn't have nothin' but myself for 'bout five whole years, and I ain't gonna let a cowardly, lyin', stuck-up pansy tell me he ain't gonna let me sell papes. I can protect myself just fine, and none of you will hafta lift a finger to help me." Crutchie finished with a smirk on his face, taking great pleasure in the shocked look on Jack Kelly's face. His smirk faded when Jack started to grin, and he became even more baffled when Jack gave him a hard clap on the back that almost sent him flying.

"What do you think, boys? Think we gots ourselves another newsie?" Jack cried to the other newspaper boys. Crutchie eyes widened in surprise when the newsies let out wild cheers and whoops, some of them even clapping and waving their hats high above their heads. Crutchie felt something weird in his body, as if he was light as air and could just float away if he wanted. Is this... Is this what being happy felt like? If so, Crutchie liked it. He beamed widely at the other newsies, his new friends, and took a deep bow, careful not to go too far to keep from falling over. Jack had an arm around his shoulders, and Crutchie could never have been happier. He sheepishly gave Jack a small smile and scuffed the ground with his good foot.

"Sorry about what I said. You seem alright," Crutchie muttered, and Jack gave him a smile that just about melted his twelve-year-old heart. Jack ruffled his scruffy blonde head and laughed. "You ain't got a thing to 'pologise for, kid. I was doin' that on purpose, see. Wanted to know you would stick up for y'self. A proud newsie is a good newsie," Jack said wisely, and Crutchie stared up at him in awe. Proud, him? Crutchie never felt proud of himself. Sure, he wasn't willing to let people see him weak, but was that being proud? Well, to Jack it was, and it made Crutchie's heart soar. Crutchie was proud, and maybe thanks to Jack, he always would be.

* * *

 **I hope you guys enjoyed reading the first chapter of my newest fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! I went to the theater today with some friends and we saw Newsies. It was incredible, and I fell in love with Crutchie's character almost instantly, and INSPIRATION. XD Anyways, thanks for reading! Don't forget to FF &R!**


	2. First Day

"So, Crutchie, today ya begin your life as a newsie," Racetrack, an older boy that had shared a bed with Crutchie the night before, said with a grin. Crutchie beamed up at him and swung his legs over the side of the makeshift bed created out of old newspapers, and even a few clothes that didn't fit the boys anymore. Race helped Crutchie to his feet and handed him his crutch, grinning widely at him and leading him out of the alleyway the newsies occupied.

"You's is real lucky, kid. Jack's gonna teach ya all the skills 'imself. When you get taught by Jack, ya get taught by the best," Race said, a proud smirk on his face, as if he was talking about himself. Crutchie nodded, his joy from before diminishing slightly as he started to feel a bit nervous. Jack had said that no real cripples made it selling papes. Sure, he said later that he was just testing Crutchie, but what if he had a point? All his life, Crutchie had been regarded as a disease just because he didn't walk quite right. Nobody would want to buy a newspaper from a disease. Race seemed to notice his distress because he gave him a pat on the shoulder before leading him to the entrance of The World. Jack was waiting for them, leaning against the gate,

"There you are! I's was startin' to wanda if you was showin' up or not!" Jack said with a laugh. He gave Race a nod and the boy went inside the gates, ready to buy his papes for the day. Crutchie shifted slightly on his feet when Jack was giving him a weird look again, looking him up and down. Crutchie noticed his expression soften when his eyes rested on Crutchie's bad leg and poorly made crutch. He put an arm around Crutchie's shoulders and started to walk through the gates.

"So, kid, you want me to teach ya how to be a newsie? That right?" Jack asked. Crutchie nodded, looking up at the older boy in anticipation, his eyes positvely shining with admiration. He might have acted all cool and smart in front of Jack Kelly yesterday, but the older boy was truly his hero. Every kid on the streets knew who Jack Kelly was, and everybody respected him.

"Well Crutchie, you's is gonna do just fine. That leg a yours is a gold mine. Lotsa newsies fake a gimp leg like yours for a few extra pennies. But, ya need to know one thing," Jack said, his face sober. Crutchie leaned in when Jack gestured for him to. Jack bent down near his ear, smiling a bit as he whispered, "Neva, _eva_ go into anotha newsie's territory, 'specially Brooklyn. They don't care if you's is a crip or not. You go t' Brooklyn, and they beatcha into the ground." Crutchie let out a small squeak of surprise and nodded quickly in understanding, his eyes wide. Jack gave him a knowing smile as they entered the room where the newsboys bout their papers.

Crutchie's mouth fell open in awe at the long line of boys waiting to buy their newspapers. They each smacked down a shiny half dollar and got a hundred newspapers to sell. each boy looked just as ragged as Crutchie did, if not more, but they all were laughing and joking with each other. They all looked so happy, as if they didn't have a care in the world.

None of them looked rough.

None of them looked hardened by the streets.

None of them looked lonely or depressed.

None of them looked like Crutchie.

Crutchie's young but hardened face fell and he looked down at his feet in shame. Most of these boys had been dealt a harder hand than him (At least, that's how he saw it), and he couldn't help but feel ashamed. He was twelve years old, but he was tough as nails. He was never happy, and honestly? He hated his life. That's why he wanted to become a newsie. Maybe his life would look up, just a little. He'd be able to be like these other boys. Jack noticed Crutchie's distress and his brow furrowed in concern, but he wasn't about to let that show. He gave Crutchie a half dollar to buy his papes with, figuring he didn't have anything himself.

"Alls you gotta do is wait in line until it's ya turn. Slam the coin down 'n ask for a hundred papes. Got it?" Jack intructed. Crutchie nodded and got in line behind the kid Specs, the guy that had led him to Jack and the rest of the newsies. The two boys greeted each other with a nod and a smile before turning back to face forward. There were about ten other boys waiting to buy papes, but it went by surprisingly quickly. When Crutchie hobbled up to the stand and slammed down the half dollar like Jack had told him and he'd seen the other boys do, he shrank back at the sight of the three men standing behind the stand. The oldest shoved a stack of papers at him and he scurried away.

"Who _are_ those guys?!" Crutchie muttered when he got back to Jack. "The old man there's Mr. Weisel. The two blokes next t'him are the Delancey brothers. Mr. Pulitzer sends 'em to beat the newsies once in a while. Stay outta their way and you'll be fine," Jack said, putting a hand on Crutchie's shoulder. Crutchie nodded and sent a worried look back at the two brothers before shuddering and turning back to Jack, who led him outside to go sell his papers.

"Hey, how old are you anyways? You look a bit young ta be out on ya own," Jack pointed out. Crutchie could fell a dark blush creep up his neck and he sighed. "I knew you was gonna ask... I turned nine 'bout a week ago. What about you? You is the boss 'round here, but'cha don't look too big or nothin'," Crutchie replied. Jack stared at him for a moment before answering, "I'm ten." The two boys walked in silence for a few more blocks until they came across a busy street, bustling with people. Jack turned to Crutchie and handed him a bag to put his newspapers in before giving him a soft shove.

"Go make some dough, kid. I'm countin' on ya!" Jack said with a grin. Crutchie looked at him over his shoulder, waving until Jack disappeared into the throng. Crutchie gulped before stepping out into the street, stepping out into his new life.

* * *

"You sold _all of them?!"_ Specs gasped in disbelief, gazing at the younger newsie in shock. Crutchie grinned and nodded, holding up his sack that was jingling with dimes, pennies, and nickles that he'd earned. "I sold 'em for a dime a piece! I gots myself ten whole dollas here, fellas!" Crutchie said proudly. The other newsies gasped and stared at the new boy in awe, thinking that maybe he wasn't as useless as they thought.

"You sold 'em for _what?!"_ a voice suddenly snarled from right behind Crutchie. He whirled around to come face to face with an angry, fuming Jack. "I-I sold them f-for a d-dime," Crutchie stammered. He had never been afraid of anything before, but the look in Jack's eyes made him want to throw down his crutch and run the other way as fast as he could. The other boys were silent as Jack stared down at Crutchie with narrowed eyes, clearly almost at his breaking point.

"You's supposed to sell them for a nickle, ya stupid crip!" Jack shouted in his face, making a few drops of spit land on Crutchie's cheeks. Crutchie's eyes widened at the insult and he shrank back, bowing his head to show humility, something he hated to do, but it seemed necessary in the situation. His lips were quivering and he tried several times to reply, but he felt like if he spoke he would burst into tears. Jack grabbed him by the front of the shirt, shaking him violently.

"You're so stupid! Didn't nobody tell ya how much the papes cost?! You helped some of the fellas sell their papes! How come ya didn't know how much dey was all of a sudden?!" Jack snarled, and Crutchie burst into tears. Jack let go of Crutchie and let him crumple to the ground, ignoring the small cry of pain he gave out when he landed on his bad leg. Crutchie tried to stop crying, cursing himself for acting so weak in front of all these other, but the tears and sobs refused to be subdued.

"I-I'm sorry Jack, I didn't know! B-Before I was a newsies the boys had me sellin' papes, an' they told me to charge a dime! I d-didn't know Jack, I-I didn't know!" Crutchie sobbed, burying his head in his hands and trying to muffle his cries. Jack's face remained expressionless as he looked down at the crying boy, but he did bend down and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Crutchie, it's okay. I should be sayin' sorry. I didn't know the otha boys were havin' you sell the papes for a dime. Just... in the futcha, sell the papes for a nickel, okay?" Jack said quietly, and all of the newsies could see how sad he looked now. Crutchie peeked at Jack through his fingers, still sniffling and shaking a bit. He nodded and Jack smiled, surprising him by wrapping his arms around him in a gentle hug.

"Congrats on sellin' all those papes on the first day," Jack said. Crutchie smiled slightly and hugged the older boy back. There was just no way he could stay mad at or be afraid of Jack Kelly.


	3. Respect

**FYI: The Specs in this story is portrayed by Ryan Steele, Jack is portrayed by Jeremy Jordan, Crutchie is portrayed by Andrew Keenan-Bolger, and Racetrack is portrayed by Ryan Breslin. So, basically, they're portrayed by their original Broadway Actors. Hope you enjoy the chapter! Don't forget to FF &R!**

* * *

Crutchie sat on the roof of the boarding house, a peaceful place that some of the other boys showed him during his first week as a newsie. He looked up at the beautiful night sky, and smiled softly. Before becoming a newsie, he never noticed the stars. He was always too afraid to pay much attention, always running away from things, people, and his past to really the simple things. Now, after being a newsboy for just a couple of weeks, he was seeing everything...

"Hey, what are you doing up here, Crutchie?" Specs said, climbing up the fire escape and startling Crutchie so bad he almost fell over the edge. Specs quickly grabbed the back of Crutchie's shirt and pulled him back up, shaking his head slightly and sighing. "Geeh kid, be more careful, will you?" Specs said with a snicker, and Crutchie gave him a sheepish smile.

"Sorry... And I's up here 'cause I can't sleep. Plus, it's real nice," Crutchie said, and he turned back to lean against the railing and look up at the stars again. Specs smiled at the younger boy and stood next to him, looking up at the night sky. "I took Jack up here on his first day as a newise. He's been showin' all the new guys ever since," Specs said fondly. Crutchie turned to him in surprise, a slight smile on his face.

"You was here before Jack?" Specs nodded. "I'm older than he is. Eleven, to be exact. But he's as mature as all of us put together," Specs said with a grin. "So... that's why you's is takin' orders from 'im? Why he's in charge of ya? 'Cause he knows what he's doin'?" Crutchie asked. Specs nodded again. "He's a real pal. He watches out for for all of us when need it. He went to school longer then most us, so he's got the brains, too. I mean, I'm pretty smart, but Jack's right up where I am too," Specs said, the admiration in his tone obvious.

"Why ain't he still at school, then? What's he doin' out here on the streets?" Crutchie asked quietly, knowing that each of the newsies stories was something they didn't exactly like to talk about. He hoped he wasn't being insensitive. Specs' smile fell and he shook his head, sighing softly. "Jack's mother died when he was born. His old man broke his back over hard labor in the streets. They never had much, but they were happy, Jack said. After a while, all the work killed Jack's father. Jack's been supporting himself ever since," Specs said reverently, even taking off his cap as he spoke. Crutchie's heart sank and he looked down at the streets, his head bowed. It was just as he thought. Even Jack had had it worse than he did.

"What's the matter? You look like somebody socked you in the jaw or somethin'," Specs commented. "I... I just feel like a wimp... Everybody seems ta have a worse past than me, but all of them is smilin' and happy. You know?" Crutchie replied, and Specs nodded in understanding. He clapped a hand on Crutchie's shoulder and started going back down the fire escape, gesturing for Crutchie to follow with a wave of his hand.

"Every newsie has a story. That's just the way it is. Jack don't care what happened to you, or how you dealt with it, just as long as you're a good person. He's a great kid. We all respect him, even the older boys like me," Specs said, pushing his glasses up his nose slightly before steadying Crutchie on one of the trickier steps. When they got down, Specs slung an arm around Crutchie's shoulder and started to steer him towards they alleyway all the boys slept in.

"You can share a spot with Race and me tonight. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. How does that sound, Crutchie?" Specs asked. Crutchie's face lit up and he nodded happily, walking with his old friend to the alley way. Jack walked by them as they passed, and gave them a wave and a big smile before disappearing off into the night. Crutchie's brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask Specs what that was about, the older boy had led him to the makeshift newspaper bed and helped him settle down.

"What was that about, Specs?" Crutchie asked, still craning his neck to try and see where Jack had gone. Specs sighed and took off his glasses, resting them beside the bed before settling down next to Crutchie. "A lot of the newsies don't earn enough money to buy food, or new clothes. Jack... Well, when it's absolutely necessary, he steals things sometimes. One of the boys is probably sick or something. I heard that Mush had a really bad cough or something. He hasn't been able to sell newspapers for weeks," Specs murmured softly before letting out a loud yawn and settling closer to Crutchie. Crutchie rested his head on Specs shoulder, which he had learned was not only accepted but encouraged among the affectionate newsies.

Crutchie smiled as Specs began to snore softly and he nuzzled into the older newsie's shoulder, sighing. He thought over what Specs had told him about Jack, from his past to how he would steal things the other boys needed. In his years on the streets, Crutchie had never stooped so low that he would steal things. But, there seemed to be something honorable about Jack doing it. Maybe it was the fact that it wasn't for himself, or that he only stole for a newsie that had no money at all. Whatever it was, it made Crutchie respect Jack Kelly. Crutchie fell asleep contentedly before Racetrack joined him and Specs, dreaming about the respectable Jack Kelly...


	4. Hurt

**Okie, heads up, I've changed the ages in the last chapters, so Crutchie is nine and was four when he was tossed out by his parents, Jack is ten, Specs is eleven, Racetrack is ten, so on and so forth. Sorry if this creates any confusion!**

* * *

Five months passed by and it was as if Crutchie had always been a part of the newises. He was as close to all of the boys, even some of the older ones, as if they were all one big family. But, the only person who still remained somewhat of a mystery was Jack Kelly. The two boys got along well enough, and Crutchie looked up to Jack as if he were the king of the world, but the two never really talked much. Crutchie had come to understand that the affection Jack had shown him in his first few weeks were just because he was the new guy, and that was who Jack was. A naturally kind, good-hearted soul that watched out for anybody the newsies took under their wing. So, Crutchie stuck close to Specs and Race, relying on them for friendship and, if needed, comfort.

Any of the newsies could come to Crutchie if they needed help. Specs had once said he wouldn't be surprised if many of them considered him a sort of second in command to Jack. Crutchie was bashful about the notion and insisted that he was just easy to talk to, and that was all. Specs and Race knew their friend had a little something more than just that, but they never said anything. If Crutchie thought that way, it was his own business, not theirs.

A knock came on Crutchie's door one day and he quickly sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he was shaken out of his nap. "Come in," he said with a yawn, moving to sit at the edge of his bed and looking at the door expectantly. The door creaked open and Jack peeked his head in, in almost a shy manner. He gave Crutchie a sheepish smile before grabbing a chair from the corner and pulling it up so he sat directly in front of the younger newsie. To say Crutchie was surprised would be a bit of an understatement. He was nervous, shocked, mortified even. He'd never been alone in the same room with Jack before.

"So... the otha boys was tellin' me that you's good at givin' advice, or just good at listenin'. Ya don't judge nobody. That true?" Jack asked gruffly. Crutchie shrugged, but he smiled slightly, happy that his reputation was so positive among his brothers. Jack took the smile as a yes and shifted in his seat, taking off his cap and sighing loudly. Crutchie leaned forward, curious about what the young leader could possibly need his services for.

"I's been... I's been havin' nightmares," Jack said slowly, choosing his words carefully. His face had slowly turned a light shade of scarlet and he looked down in shame, as if being afraid of something was a thing to be ashamed about. Crutchie hesitated before resting a hand on his knee, startling the older boy and causing him to look up. Crutchie was taken aback as he saw the pain and sorrow hidden behind those dark eyes, and he wondered how long Jack's eyes had looked like that and no one noticed.

"Have ya ever heard of the Refuge?" Jack whispered, and Crutchie's grip on his knee tightened slightly. Of course he knew about the Refuge. Everyone did. "I's been there. When I was seven, I got caught stealin' some bread. They sent me there. I didn't get out for months," Jack continued, and Crutchie could feel him start to tremble. "Snyda, he's the guy in charge, he kept beatin' me. I had to sleep in a bed with four or five otha boys. The food was terrible, and we rarely got any anyways. A-And the rats... God, they were everywhere," Jack groaned with a shudder, and Crutchie could see the tears starting to glisten in Jack's eyes.

"The nightmares won't stop. It's been two years, and I still can't get them to stop!" Jack whimpered, and he let a single tear escape. "I don't wanna be scared no more, Crutchie. I-I... I don't know what to do!" Jack started to sob and he buried his head in his hands, his young face twisted with more fear and sorrow than any ten year old should have. Crutchie surged forward and wrapped his arms around Jack as tightly as he could. He forgot that he barely knew Jack. He forgot that they hardly ever talked. He forgot that he was his idol, that he was higher than him. All he knew was that Jack was his brother; his brother that needed to be comforted, and loved, and he needed help chasing his nightmares away.

"Jack, havin' nightmares in normal. Goin' through what you went through is gonna scar ya, it's gonna leave you scared and feeling empty 'n broken, but I ain't gonna let it last. Wheneva you have a nightmare, wake me up, Jack. You got that? I don't care what time it is, or how silly ya think ya are, I wanna be there for you, and I will," Crutchie said firmly. Jack hugged him back tightly, burying his face in his shoulder and sobbing. Crutchie felt the older boy nod in agreement against his shoulder and he smiled, a watery smile that was filled with tears, but was a smile all the same.

When Jack calmed down the two boys still didn't let go of each other, clinging to one another like a life line. A nine year old and a ten year old, too young to know the unfairness of life, but their innocence had been snatched away long ago. Jack pulled away slightly and gave Crutchie a silent, tear filled smile that made Crutchie's heart soar from the genuineness of it. Jack left after thanking Crutchie, and the young boy was still in a trance-like state of joy that sent a rush through him. He had helped Jack Kelly.

That was the day it all really began. Two boys, very different, but exactly the same all at once, came together, because that's what friends do. They come out of nowhere, easing your fears and worries. They swoop you into their arms and welcome you like you're a part of their family. They treat you like everyone else, and they don't make fun of what you're afraid of. That's what Jack and Crutchie had, starting that day in a cramped room in the lodging house, and that's what they would always have.

* * *

 **Don't worry, this is not the end! There will be more chapters to come. I hope you guys are enjoying this story! Don't forget to FF &R! **


	5. Santa Fe

It had been two years seen Crutchie joined the newsies; he was eleven now. The friendship between him and Jack had grown stronger, and Jack started to tell Crutchie about his biggest dreams, his greatest fears, his darkest moments. The first time Jack told Crutchie about Santa Fe was after he'd had a nightmare. Crutchie found Jack curled up on his bed with his head shoved into his pillow, his entire body racking with muffled sobs. Crutchie quickly crawled into bed next to his best friend, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and trying to shake him awake.

"Jack? Jack, wake up," Crutchie whispered worriedly. Jack's eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright, knocking Crutchie right in the forehead. Both boys let out hisses of pain, clutching their heads and trying to keep quiet so they didn't wake up the other newsies. Jack was still whimpering softly, and Crutchie knew it wasn't because his head hurt. His own pain forgotten, he scooted closer to Jack and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"I heard you havin' a bad dream, Jack. Was it about the refuge again?" Crutchie said softly. Jack nodded slightly, looking down at his hands and letting out a shaky sigh. "Why don't... Why don't ya tell me a story or somethin'? You to, to distract y'self," Crutchie suggested, and he felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders when Jack gave him a small smile and nodded. The two boys laid back down and Crutchie looked at his friend expectantly, watching as the gears turned in his mind in search of a good story.

"Did I eva tell you about Santa Fe, Crutchie?" Jack said, the smile gracing his lips widening. Crutchie shook his head, listening eagerly. "It's all the way in New Mexico. That's miles and miles away from 'ere. Everythin's clean, and pretty, and there's green as far as the eye can see. There ain't no big buildings blockin' the view or nothing. They're all made outta clay, too," Jack said. "Wow," Crutchie whispered, his tone filled with awe. Jack grinned.

"The peoples are real nice too. They welcome ya as soon as you set foot in the place, and they treat'cha like you's all one big family! You's is real successful down there, too. Ya plant crops to have food, you can own as many cows 'n chickens as you want, and you get to ride horses. Palominos!" Jack continued. Crutchie, his purpose forgotten, was enraptured by Jack's enthusiastic telling of the place of his dreams.

"I wanna go there Jack," Crutchie murmured with awe. Jack looked over to his friend to see a dreamy smile on his face, and the grin he had morphed into a loving smile. "You can come with me. We'll go togetha, alright?" Jack said. Crutchie nodded and turned so that he was facing Jack. There was no sign of Jack's earlier distress. His eyes were filled with excitement, and the smile he was sending Crutchie' way had the younger boy's heart doing flips. He nuzzled closer to Jack, resting his head on his shoulder and sighing with content. The two boys soon fell asleep, dreaming up their new lives in Santa Fe.


	6. You Ain't Weak

After another year with the boys, Crutchie learned that Racetrack usually arrived later than the rest of the boys at the end of the day; he sold his papes in Brooklyn with the permission of Spot Conlon, and it took a while for him to get back. So, when it was almost midnight and Race still wasn't back, none of the boys were all that worried. Except for a certain gimp-legged boy and bespectacled teen. Crutchie and Specs knew they were probably overreacting, but...

"Jack, we's gotta go afta him! He's in trouble, I know he is!" Crutchie insisted, and Specs nodded vigorously in agreement. "He's never been out this long, Jack. We need to accept the fact that something's happened to him!" Specs replied, his tone pleading as he looked to the younger boy. Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair in slight exasperation.

"What coulda happened to 'im, huh? Spot's got 'is back! He ain't gonna get hurt. Don't worry, he'll be back soon enough," Jack said. Specs and Crutchie exchanged a nervous glance, but they knew they wouldn't get anywhere with their stubborn leader. Specs actually glared at Jack before he helped Crutchie into his bunk, setting his crutch up against the wall and helping the youngest of the three boys get his legs up onto the bed.

"Ya don't think he's at the... t-the refuge, do you, Specs?" Crutchie whispered, his light brown eyes widening in terror. Specs smoothed Crutchie's hair away from his face and sighed, his shoulders slumping as he gave a small nod. "There's trouble in Brooklyn, everybody knows it. It was only a matter of time before Race got taken," Specs said gravely, swallowing hard as the situation truly began to dawn on him. Crutchie whimpered and pulled the covers over his head, trembling slightly and sniffling. Specs' eyes softened and he sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hand where he supposed Crutchie's shoulder to be.

"Race'll be okay, Crutchie. He's tough as nails! We... You know that," Specs said softly. Crutchie's trembling only got worse and Specs could tell he was crying because of the small whimpers he gave. "Hey. Hey, Crutchie, don't cry," Specs murmured, tugging the blankets down slightly to reveal the younger boy's face. Crutchie was indeed crying, a few tears still running down his face. Specs wrapped his arms around the younger boy and held him close, closing his eyes as tears started to gather on his lashes. His glasses dug into the bridge of his nose as he buried his face in Crutchie's hair, but he didn't care. Crutchie needed comfort.

"I-I's scared," Crutchie said with a sob, clutching the front of Specs' shirt as he cried on his shoulder. "You 'n Race 'n Jack is my best friends. If somethin' happens to any of ya, I'd don't know what I'd do!" he continued, and Specs' heart nearly broke at the simple and heartfelt confession. He massaged the back of Crutchie's head and let him cry, but he didn't say anything. He couldn't. His best friend could be dead, or getting beaten, or locked up somewhere. He had nothing to say.

Jack lay in his bed, awake. Guilt cut his heart into ribbons as he heard Crutchie's terrified sobs and Specs' muffled ones. Jack was supposed to be the leader, even if he wasn't the oldest. These two were his best friends. But he just laid there, denying that Racetrack was in the refuge, denying that something was wrong, denying to accept the fact that Race was missing and there was a chance he'd never come back.

* * *

A month. A month went by and they still hadn't found Racetrack. Crutchie and Specs knew he had to be in the refuge, but Jack refused to go there. The searches stopped after a while, and everyone had given up hope on ever seeing the sarcastic, quick-witted boy they all loved and missed so much. Crutchie was crying himself to sleep every night and Specs was the only one that could calm him. Jack had nightmares of the refuge, with Race being there instead of himself, but he didn't admit it. He needed to be strong.

It was another dreary and quiet night when a loud knock came to the doors of the lodging house. Several of the boys began to whisper among themselves as they looked at the time; eleven thirty at night. Who could possibly be calling at this hour? Crutchie knew. Specs knew. Jack knew. Specs shot to his feet and bolted over to the door, flinging it open so forcefully Crutchie thought it would go flying off the hinges.

Race stood in the doorway, shivering in the cold. His lips were blue and he wore only a thin night shirt that went to his knees. Bruises and cuts littered every inch of visible skin and he had a huge black eye. His bones poked so harshly that he looked more like a skeleton than a thirteen year old boy. Dried blood was crusted under his nose and around several of the deeper cuts on his forehead. He was crying, his eyes wide with terror and tear tracks cutting through the thick coating of grime on his face.

"Oh my God," Specs breathed, grabbing Race by the shoulders and steering him inside. "S-Someone get a blanket! And some hot water!" Specs commanded, sitting Race down on one of the cots. Jack, in a daze, rushed off to get the needed items. Race was starting to breathe heavily, panting and shaking so bad Specs' arms trembled as he gripped him.

"It was so bad..." Race choked out. "It was so bad in there." Race buried his head in his hands and took more labored breaths, scaring Specs so bad his face turned white. "Calm down Race, everything's alright now. You're safe now," Specs said, a tremor in his voice. Race let out a choked sob before turning to his friend and burying his face in his shoulder, grabbing the front of his shirt and twisting it around his fist as if to make sure it was really there.

"It was so bad. It was so bad," Race repeated like a broken record, his voice high pitched and filled with pain. He was starting to get hysterical, sobbing uncontrollably and shaking as he panted for breath. He'd broken out into a cold sweat as well, and Specs was trying his best to get him to calm down. Crutchie watched the scene with tear filled eyes and looked behind him to see if Jack was coming. The boy in question was standing in the doorway, staring at Racetrack's hunched and sobbing figure with blank eyes. He slowly entered the room and draped the blanket over the other teen's shoulders and set the bowl of warm water on the floor next to Race, his hand resting for a moment on his back.

"How'd you get out?" Jack whispered hoarsely. Race looked up at met Jack's blank eyes with his terrified, glistening ones. "They let me out. I only needed ta be there for a month," Race whispered. He stood up shakily, ignoring Specs' protests, and stared dead-on into Jack's eyes.

"I was there a month, and I'm thirteen. You was there for a year and you's was eight. _Eight years old_ and you was in that hell. And you's in one piece. I-I'm so... I'm so weak!" Race exclaimed, grabbing at his hair and squeezing his eyes shut in such a way that both terrified Crutchie and made him want to get up and hug Race at the same time. Romeo, one of the newer and younger boys, sat in the corner with Mush and Buttons and stared at his tormented mentor with wide eyes, tears swimming and a few slipping from their confines and dribbling down his cheeks. Jack put a hand on Race's shoulder, but he didn't say anything for a whole minute.

"You ain't weak, Race," Jack said, finally finding his voice. Race hiccuped and looked up at the boy, sniffling.

"What?"

"I said ya ain't weak. Any time in there, no matter how short, is like livin' in hell. I don't care if I was younga or if I was there longa than you, nothin' you say 's gonna make me think you's weak. You're strong Race, you's a soldier. You got beat and starved and fed on by rats. There's no shame in cryin' and bein' scared. I wish I got'cha out soona... It's _my fault_ you wasn't out soona. I didn't want to believe you was there. I'm sorry," Jack said firmly. Race chuckled darkly and shook his head, puling Jack back the front of his shirt and grabbing him in a tight hug.

"This ain't your fault. I's bein' dumb. I got caught stealin'. I coulda got out if I wanted ta, but I didn't. None of this is your fault," Race murmured. Jack, now trembling, returned the other's embrace and didn't say a word. Specs gently separated them after a minute or so and sat Race back down in his chair, dipping his cloth in the bowl of water and gently scrubbing at the crusted blood and dried grime. Jack watched, flinching and grimacing every now and then when Race let out a whimper.

Jack would always blame himself for what the newsies went through, even if he had nothing to do with it.


	7. Bitter Thoughts

"Don't worry Specs, it's only for a day, 'n ya got Race and Crutchie here to help! Ya won't even knows I's gone!" Jack said with a grin, clapping the stuttering boy on the back. Specs' face twisted in disagreement and noises of distress came from his mouth, but words refused to form. Jack and Crutchie exchanged a glance and he gave Crutchie a knowing smile, winking cheekily at him.

"Alright then, if you's too afraid, Crutchie will be in charge!" Jack said in a matter of fact tone. Specs blinked and looked at Jack with dismay, his eyes wide in disbelief. "You _wouldn't,"_ Specs murmured, awestruck, but not in a good way. Jack smirked and Crutchie grinned, coming up to stand next to Specs. Specs looked back and forth between the two friends, confused and dejected.

"Fine, I'll do it," he muttered. Crutchie cheered and Jack clapped Specs on the back again, making him smile softly. "I knew you'd come t'rough! It ain't too hard. The boys love ya!" Jack said encouragingly when Specs began to look doubtful. It wasn't often that Jack had to leave for the day, and when he did, he usually left the newsies to their own devices. But, with new boys and younger newsies pouring in, they needed someone to look out for them, and Specs was Jack's first choice; he'd been a newsies the longest out of all of them.

"Oh yeah, they _adore_ me," Specs said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Just hurry back, alright Jack?" Specs added hopefully. Jack gave his friend one last smile and nodded, ruffling his hair before taking off into the streets, waving behind him. Specs' shoulders slumped and he sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking at the ground hopelessly. Crutchie's brow furrowed with worry as the usual cheerful grin was wiped off of his face.

"It ain't that bad when he's gone, is it?" Crutchie asked cautiously. Specs' expression when he looked at him was all the answer he needed. He looked utterly hopeless. "The boys won't listen to me. They only listen to Jack. Whenever Jack comes back and things are a mess, he always blames me for it!" Specs replied miserably, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes tiredly. Crutchie's mouth fell open in shock at the new discovery.

"That don't seem like Jack at all! Why would he blame _you?!_ It ain't like you's always the one left in charge when he leaves!" Crutchie exclaimed. "Yeah I am. I don't know why, though, Jack thinks I'm a horrible leader," Specs sighed, shaking his head. "Ain't Jack big on second chances or somethin'? Maybe that's it," Crutchie suggested. Specs smiled a little and shrugged, making Crutchie feel slightly hopeful.

"Yeah, I guess so. Let's go, might as well get this over with..."

* * *

Specs finished putting the last little newsies to bed, his eyes tired behind his glasses and his entire body slumped with exhaustion. Crutchie stood beside him, having just come back from putting a few of the youngest newsies to bed himself. There had been few moments of outright mutiny against Specs that day, but a few of the newsies had refused t listen to him and some had even tried to get him to back off. The day hadn't gone nearly as bad as Specs had made it sound, but upon further investigation Crutchie discovered it had been tons worse before. Specs collapsed onto his bed with a groan.

"I hate this," he moaned in exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air. "I can't lead! Jack is the leader!" Crutchie tsked and shook his head, wagging his finger in a patronizing manner at his friend. Specs sighed and turned away, pulling the covers higher up over his shoulder. Crutchie's playful smile faded and he sat on the edge of Specs bed, placing a hand on the moping boy's shoulder.

"Specs, what's wrong? Ya did great today!" Crutchie said, hoping to motivate his friend. Specs sniffed and buried his face deeper in his pillow, releasing a shaky sigh.

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Jack..." Crutchie blinked in surprise at Specs' barely whispered answer, the hand he had placed on Specs' shoulder tightening its grip. Specs curled up and sniffed again, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he started to tear up. "The boys are going to tell him I did a bad job, I just know it! He's going to get mad at me and yell at me a-and... and..." Specs' voice trailed off and he whimpered softly. Crutchie's expression softened and he laid down next to Specs, wrapping his arms around the older newsies in a loving embrace.

"Nothin's gonna happen, I swear. If Jack gets mad, I'll stick up for ya, alright?" Crutchie murmured. Specs' eyes widened and he turned to face Crutchie, his eyes filled with both admiration and shock. "But Jack's your best friend, your brother even! Why would you stick up for _me?"_ Specs asked, his voice quivering. Crutchie smiled and curled up closer to Specs, resting his head on the older boy's shoulder.

"You's my brother too, I ain't pickin' favorites. I love Jack, but I love you, and Racetrack, and Mush, and all the others too. I ain't gonna single any of ya out just cause I'm closer to one of you. I'm gonna stick up for you through everythin', even if it means goin' against Jack. Sometimes that boy needs his ego to be tamed a bit," Crutchie said, giving Specs a reassuring smile. Specs smiled back and buried his face in Crutchie's hair.

"Next time, you should be in charge, Crutchie," Specs joked, making both boys chuckle softly. Crutchie was glad Spec knew now. No matter how much he loved Jack, no matter how close they were, he would never betray any of his other brothers. That's just the way things were.


	8. Jack, Help!

Seven years. It had been seven years since Crutchie had first joined the newsies. He was sixteen, Jack was seventeen, and Specs and Race were eighteen. Specs and Race had a mere one year left before they had to leave the newsies, and as Crutchie grasped his crutch decorated with a tattered cloth reading STRIKE, he supposed this was one way to end a career. The boys stood in front of The World, holding up signs and standing with their shoulders together.

Chaos erupted as scabs poured into the square, beating the newsies and forcing them to flee the square. Crutchie tried to run but his bad leg slowed him down. Before he knew it, all the newsies had fled the square. Not even Jack had stayed behind to make sure his friend had escaped safely. Crutchie backed away as the Delancey brothers advanced towards him, neither of them looking too happy at the task at hand.

"C-Come on, boys, can't we talk ab- AH!" Crutchie screamed as Oscar kicked his bag leg and he crumpled to the ground. Morris continued by kicking the fallen boy over and over again, stepping on his hand as Crutchie made a desperate grab at his crutch. Snyder shoved the Delancey brothers aside and picked up the crutch, looking at it for a moment before lifting it high in the air.

"JACK!" Crutchie screamed out moments before Snyder began to ruthlessly beat him with the one thing he used to keep him up. Crutchie curled up and tried to protect his face, groaning. His eyes lifted and he saw his brother hidden up in the fire escape. Crutchie's eyes widened and he cried out as Snyder gave him a particularly vicious blow.

"Jack! Help me, Jack!" Crutchie called to his brother, reaching out towards his retreating friend. Jack froze and their eyes met for a split second. Crutchie's heart sank as he saw nothing but a hopeless, broken man staring back at him. When Jack ran, Crutchie sobbed and screamed, writhing in the Delanceys' grip as Snyder handcuffed him and they dragged him away to the refuge.


	9. Bloodied

Crutchie found himself in the refuge, kneeling before Snyder with the Delancey Brothers on either side of him. He bowed his head, hoping to appear humble as he tried to keep the trembling out of his shoulders. Snyder circled him like a lion observing his prey, his greedy eyes glinting as they landed on Crutchie's bad leg. Snyder chuckled and stood behind Crutchie, squeezing his shoulders tightly, so tightly that his nails dug into the boy's shoulders. Crutchie winced, but refused to whimper.

"Your friends with Jack Kelly, aren't you?" Snyder said smoothly, his hand creeping to Crutchie's neck. The sixteen year old swallowed hard, closing his eyes. He shook his head slowly and turned to look back at Snyder with a convincing confused pout.

"Nuh-uh. I ain't neva heard of Jack Kelly before. Saw 'is name in the papes, but that's all I know," Crutchie said quietly. Snyder chuckled softly and Crutchie suddenly gasped as the older man closed his hands around Crutchie's throat, squeezing all of the oxygen out of his lungs and refusing to give him any more. Crutchie's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, his eyes wide as he clawed at Snyder's meaty hands. Black spots were starting to dance in front of his eyes and he felt light headed, as if he were going to faint.

"Tell me where he is or I'll beat you with your crutch again," Snyder hissed, giving Crutchie's throat one last squeeze before letting go. Crutchie gasped and doubled over, clutching his stomach as he took in gulps of the putrid air around him. He glared at Snyder as he rubbed his neck, his arms trembling. Snyder could see the challenge in the boy's eyes and was momentarily impressed at his strength. He snapped at Oscar and Morris. The Delanceys were staring at Snyder and Crutchie with conflicted eyes, but when Snyder motioned them forward, Oscar picked up Crutchie's crutch and raised it high above his head.

Crutchie screamed as the hard wood cracked against his back, sending him flat on the floor. Oscar hit him a few more times, resulting in more snaps, cracks, and screams, before Snyder held up a hand for them to stop. Crutchie whimpered and curled up on the floor, feeling some of his hot blood run down his back from the wounds his crutch had inflicted upon him. Crutchie saw Snyder undoing his belt and stiffened, shaking with pure terror.

"Tell me where he is!" Snyder shouted. Crutchie saw the belt fly through the air and screamed as his back exploded with pain once again.

"AHHH! Stop, please! I don't-"

 _Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream, Snap-scream._

Crutchie breathed heavily, feeling more of his blood on his back and seeing some of it drip down onto the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears of pain rolled down his cheeks. He thought of Jack, of Specs, and of Race, his best friend and his brothers. He was doing this for them. He would stay silent. Snyder growled as Crutchie took the rest of his belt whippings silently, not saying a word or giving him any information. He returned his belt to his pants and gestured at the Delanceys.

"Do what you want," Snyder said carelessly. Crutchie got up from the floor slowly, staying on his hands and knees and Oscar and Morris approached him, cracking their knuckles, their actions ironically accompanied by sympathetic glances.

"Please..." Crutchie whispered, trying one last time for mercy. Oscar and Morris exchanged a glance.

"We're sorry. Just doin' our job," Morris muttered, balling a fist. Crutchie closed his eyes.


	10. Our Fault

"Race, you should come to bed. Getting no sleep isn't going to help us get Crutchie back," Specs said slowly to his agitated friend. Racetrack turned away from the window, his unlit cigar still hanging from his mouth as he glowered at the bespectacled newsie. Specs lowered his eyes and stayed standing next to Race, but didn't try to speak with him again. Race sighed and took of his cap, raking his fingers through his wild blonde hair and throwing the cap onto his bed.

"I know I should, but I can't stop thinkin' 'bout him. Ya don't think they're... hurting him or nothin', do you?" Racetrack asked worriedly, his voice barely above a whisper. Specs' face paled and he wiped his eyes quickly with the back of his hands, sniffling.

"I sure hope not. Crutchie doesn't deserve any of that. But knowing Snyder..." Specs paused a moment before shaking his head and sighing in frustration. "Knowing Snyder, he won't give a damn about that. He's a selfish, money loving monster. We all know that for a face. Most of us have been there." Race flinched slightly as Specs slammed his hand against the windowsill while he was talking, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes. Racetrack's eyes flickered over to his companion and they softened almost immediately when he saw Specs with his head bowed, his knuckles white as he grabbed at the windowsill and his shoulders trembling slightly.

"Crutchie's tough. He'll make it t'rough this. Jus' wait 'n see, Specs," Race said, suddenly confident as he clapped Specs on the shoulder. Specs chuckled humorlessly and shook his head, looking up at Race with a watery smile.

"How can you possibly know that, Race? You know how bad that place is just as much as I do, and Crutchie isn't as tough as he makes himself out to be. I don't know if he'll make it," Specs murmured. Race wrapped an arm around his companion and squeezed his shoulder gently, looking out at the starry night sky.

"As soon as da strike is ova, whether we win o' lose, we's gettin' Crutchie outta there. We gotta make it up to him somehow. It's our fault..." Specs' eyes widened, but he stayed silent. He wasn't planning on waiting until after the strike to get his friend back. Race felt Specs' shoulders tense under his arm and quickly withdrew, stepping back away from the window and sighing.

"I ain't gonna make you sleep or nothin', but get to bed soon, alright? Katherine said she had somethin' important to tell us tomorrow, so we can't be late," Race muttered before going over to his bed and climbing in under the covers, pulling the cigar out of his mouth and placing it on the nightstand. Specs made no move to join him, his nails still digging into the old, twisted wood of the dinky windowsill. He found himself wondering if Crutchie was just as worried about the lot of them as they were about him. Specs doubted it. The kid was probably in too much pain to think about anything right now.

"Don't worry, Crutch...I'm coming for you."


End file.
